Generations and generations back,
A lone man found himself walking on flat feet,
No arches to support the weight of his bony frame,
Just plain ole feet amongst the vastness of the ground.
Little did he know future generations would share his same type of feet.
Now it seems most of my family has flat feet,
Occasionally hurting from time to time,
Sometimes needing a break from the restless world around them,
But definitely not letting anything get in their way.
When I find myself having to sit down on Halloween,
Or needing a break from walking at the Del Mar fair,
I can thank my ancestors for their gracious gift.
But in a way having a common struggle,
The same one my ancestors may have had,
Keeps me in touch with the past,
And lets me realize just how long our family has been around.
If someone were to meet my family,
They might realize how different everyone is,
Yet how indescribably similar our feet are.
Just as this characteristic trait has survived over time,
I expect that it will be passed on,
From one individual to the next,
Sort of like the common cold.
I can only expect that future generations will have flat feet,
Just as I do.